Decades
by effluvious
Summary: An elderly Draco Malfoy remembers past decades.Oneshot.


_**Author's Note:** Written for prompt #19 (stone) from prompt set 50.1 at the 100quills community on LiveJournal. Reviews and constructive criticism greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading!_

_**Disclaimer:** The Potterverse and all of its inhabitants are property of JK Rowling, et al. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made from this work of fanfiction._

"Decades"

They were many decades past their Hogwarts days, yet Draco Malfoy seemed to recall each of them with startling clarity. He had vivid recollections of laughter, tears, jokes, and slights and he treasured each memory. He took them out from time to time and mulled over them a bit taking care never to forget the chain of events that had led him to where he was.

He recalled each insult that had passed between himself and Gryffindor's Golden Trio, every time that he had pasted on a sneer and flung filthy words like "mudblood" at those who had been most undeserving. He remembered all of the cruelty that he had inflicted upon others simply because his father had taught him that his blood made him better than they were. There had been about seventeen years of that, six of them spent at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He recollected nearly murdering a man who had never done anything but good for the Wizarding World. He had caused the death of one of the greatest wizards to ever live, but he remembered that there had been at least enough good in him to stop him from committing the act himself. After that, there had been months where he had never felt anything but alone. He had been forced into hiding from both sides and he could remember nothing but the prevailing sense of utter loneliness.

Following those memories, he would often slip into reminiscences of a time when his innocence had been established and the Order of the Phoenix had warily taken him in. They had all said that Dumbledore would have wanted it that way, and even in death Dumbledore had the final word. For months, he had lived in their headquarters and been treated to their guarded glances and hushed whispers. He had felt like an unwelcome visitor, like the enemy.

Then, he remembered, a bushy haired brunette had started to take just a second or two more out of her day to greet him or to ask how he was feeling. He had, pompous arse that he was, hidden his pleasure at her attentions behind his trademark sneer. Hermione Granger was known for her persistence, however, and continued to offer him a kind word between adventures with Potter and Weasley.

Slowly, he recalled, the Muggle-born witch who represented all that he had been taught to hate had broken through his defences. Something in her toffee-coloured eyes had taught him what it was to have a friend. They had first shared stories of their vastly different pasts, but as they had grown more comfortable with one another, they had begun to share everything.

Years later, after the War was over and Voldemort had been defeated, that same witch had taught him what it was to have a lover. They had come together in a slow coupling that had shattered their separate words and rebuilt them as one. From that time on, the pair of them had been inseparable.

For decades, they had reigned together at Malfoy Manor. With his money and her brains, they had made a powerful couple. They had backed the most important causes, influenced the Ministry's view on Muggle Relations, and even, at Hermione's insistence, turned S.P.E.W. into a national organization. Hermione had borne three beautiful children who were in equal possession of their parents' good looks and brains. They had taught these children of kindness and hope and were proud of their courage and ambition. They had watched them graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (two from Slytherin House and one from Gryffindor) and go out into the wide world in search of their own fortunes.

For the great majority of his life, Draco Malfoy's entire world had hinged upon his wife's existence. He had watched Hermione Granger-Malfoy grow into a strong woman and had then watched her grow wrinkled and grey. Never once in all of their years together had he thought of her as anything but perfectly beautiful.

He glanced at her sleeping form in the bed beside him and squeezed her wizened hand. Draco Malfoy had few regrets about the way his life had gone, but for what was perhaps the billionth time in his rather full life, he silently cursed Dumbledore for destroying the Sorcerer's Stone at the end of their first year at Hogwarts. If there ever was anything worth living forever for, the love that they shared was it.


End file.
